the Life and Loss of Erik Lehnsherr
by CirclesWithinCircles
Summary: Set during XMFC, Charles and Erik are on another recruiting mission. This time in Europe. Along the way, memories of Erik's past resurface, and Charles is there to comfort him. slash if you squint. Rated for later chapters.R R! its my 1st time, be gentle!
1. The Angel

**Hey there everybody! This is my first fan fiction ever! I'm extremely proud of myself :D PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read and review, but be gentle as its my first time. No flames please.**

**Anyways, about the story. Erik and Charles go an another mission to recruit more mutants during X-Men: First Class. They run into an old acquaintance or two of Erik's. And he is also forced to visit some places important to his past. Along the way, old (most likely painful) memories begin to resurface. Charles witnesses those memories, and thus learns more about his friend and tries to comfort him. Erik gets some things off his chest. So far it can be read as friendship, or slash (but i prefer slash). Rated just to be safe, for darkness, violence, maybe adult themes and swearing (mostly for later chapters).**

**So, enough prattle. On with the show!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

**The Angel**

** In which Erik revisits a childhood memory and his pre-war home.**

"Why did we have to come here Charles? Surely there are other, more powerful recruits to prospect? And probably much closer to home as well." Erik Lehnsherr paused with a faint expression of shock when he realized he had used the word "home" to describe Charles Xavier's mansion which now doubled as training facility and safe haven for six mutants and one CIA agent.

Charles raised a surprised yet very pleased eyebrow at his friend's use of the descriptive. He had not thought the older man was at all comfortable at his mansion, maybe Erik's discomfort wasn't as bad as he made it seem…

Recovering from his momentary confusion Erik continued "This is a completely unnecessary waste of our time and your money".

"Erik, if you are so against this, then you can go wait at the hotel." laughed Charles, ignoring the ever present buzz of Erik's thoughts and his sudden look of indignation. "And I told you before we left, there is a man here with extreme telekinetic abilities, we really could benefit from having one such as him on the team".

The two friends walked side by side in silence, along the slightly industrialized looking suburban street of outer Düsseldorf as Charles sensed the tone of Erik's thoughts shift from growing irritation and apprehension to reveal faint anger and anxiety.

This puzzled Charles slightly as he had never felt an emotion like anxiety coming from his best friend in all the time Charles had known him. Which, yes if he must admit hadn't been very long. But with his power and the connection he had felt from the very beginning to Erik, Charles liked to think he knew the other man quite well. And it was true that he knew Erik exponentially better than anyone else.

His chest swelled with pride at the thought.

Although his feelings of satisfaction soon dimmed as he once again tuned in to the emotions that coloured Erik's thoughts. As always they were very strong, more potent than most people, but usually very different to what he what he was feeling now. Erik's emotions were usually anger, annoyance, restlessness, with a remarkably strong under currant of revenge that was ever present (which was obviously rather unsettling for Charles), and once when they had first met, a terrifying, seething rage that Charles tried to avoid triggering at all costs.

But this was different. He had never before felt something so akin to fear in his friend.

Charles wanted to ask him why he was feeling this way, but chose not to as he knew Erik would not appreciate the mind reader's attempt to poke his nose into other people's business, as Erik would see it. The young professor briefly considered delving into his companions mind to seek out the source of his distress, but immediately discarded the notion on the grounds that if he did so without his permission, Erik would never trust him again.

"Is something else the matter Erik?" Charles blurted out as he couldn't stand just watching while Erik's anxiety grew.

"Not at all my friend," replied Erik, as he smirked "I was simply contemplating how inconvenient it is to travel alone with a mind reading professor that has the insufferable habit of assuming he knows everything."

"Point taken" Charles smiled, and tried to forget the matter.

But as he watched his friend look about them with his standard expression (or façade in this case) of cool indifference, he couldn't help but think of a cornered dog as he noticed the tense set of Erik's broad shoulders and slightly frantic look in his grey blue eyes, darting around, taking in there surroundings as if looking for an escape.

Something was definitely wrong. It was unnerving.

The younger man decided to monitor his friend, (discreetly of course, Erik would kill him if he caught on to what he was doing) just in case it grew to much for Erik to handle by himself. Even though Charles knew he would never actually ask him for help, Charles was pretty sure he knew what signs to look for.

_I remember this place… whispered a faint voice_. Charles snapped his head around to face Erik. "Did you say something?"

"No" scoffed Erik before resuming his tense surveillance of the empty street.

Charles frowned, puzzled. He had defiantly heard something, but as it was the middle of a weekday there was no one in the street close enough to over hear, so that left only Erik. And as he hadn't said anything…that meant it was a thought of his. And if Charles didn't know better, he would have thought that was impossible.

Erik had developed remarkable control over the volume of his thoughts since that first night they had met in the water. Erik's mind screaming for revenge, Charles had heard him from over 100 meters away. Which was remarkable as Charles had not payed any attention to the water itself, thus was not looking for anyone there. Of course, Charles mental reach was quite vast, but if Charles wasn't looking for something in particular, chances were he wasn't going to notice anything. As such, the powerful telepath was understandably shocked when he heard a remarkably forceful consciousness, screaming in the water so far away.

But since that first night, Erik had ensured that his mental voice was quiet enough that Charles couldn't hear defined thought from his friend it if he didn't try. And he never tried without permission.

_So what was that I wonder?_ What caused him to slip up? Fathomed Charles as he kept pace with his friend. As he pondered this odd occurrence and wondered if it had something to do with Erik's strange anxiousness, suddenly an image consumed Charles vision.

A small brick house with a brown tiled roof. Two windows, one either side of the wooden front door. Front of the house lined with a small patio, raised slightly form the ground. A well tended front garden, populated by many red and white rose bushes. A waist high hedge lined the front of the property, acting as a barrier of the side walk.

A tall man, the spitting image of Erik if he were a few years older, wearing a cheap business suit and wool coat. Sitting on a rocking chair while reading a newspaper. His attention consumed by reading, he flinched in shock when a smiling, thin woman with lovely grey blue eyes walked up behind the man and embraced him. Overcoming his momentary surprise, the man's lit up as he turned to kiss the woman with the striking eyes.

Erik's eyes.

_These are Erik's parents_, Charles realized. _WERE, Erik's parents._ Charles corrected himself. He had gathered from Erik's insinuations that his parents were deceased.

_This must have been Erik's home._

As soon as he made this connection, the image vanished, and was replaced with the ordinary street.

Charles shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the disorientation that came with such a forceful memory, for it must have been a memory of his friend's childhood. Although it must have hit him hard and unawares for Erik to loose control and broadcast the image as he had. He looked at Erik, who was staring tensely at a small brick house down the street, on the other side of the road.

As Charles looked harder at this particular house he saw the brick walls, the brown tiled roof, two windows, patio and an overgrown, wild garden.

The house from Erik's memory.

"Erik? What…?"

Erik tore his eyes from the house reluctantly to look at Charles. As he took in Charles expression of shocked sadness his eyes grew cold as he saw that Charles had witnessed the forgotten memory.

Charles quickly tried to compose the expression on his face as he sensed Erik's anger at showing weakness. He knew the last thing Erik would appreciate was pity, especially from his only good friend.

"Erik-I-"

"You saw" it was not a question. It was an accusation.

"Y-yes" there was no point in denying it, he wasn't going to lie to the older man. "You lived here when you were a child". Another statement.

Erik glowered at Charles, determined not to answer and risk the telepath feeling any sorrier for him than he already did. Suddenly Erik sighed; _Why not just get it over with? What's the harm in one person knowing? No doubt Charles was going to draw the information from me one way of the other. At least if I tell him anything it will be on my terms._

"Yes" another sigh, impatient this time. "I lived here with my parents for my entire childhood. Until…the SS came knocking at our door late one night."

Charles paled at his casual mention of the Schutzstaffel, the Nazi Party's so called "Protection Squad", whose duties bestowed by Hitler were to supervise and operate the concentration camps. the SS's other main tasks were to hunt down, capture and kill as many members of racial minorities as they could, among other such acts of inhumane brutality.

Erik smirked bitterly "I'm sorry Charles; I shouldn't have told you that. My story is too brutal for one as innocent as you" Erik turned away and continued walking down the street.

Charles opened his mouth to protest, and paused. _Compared to Erik I AM innocent…_

Rethinking what he was going to say Charles jogged to catch up with the taller mutant. "Wait…I-I want to know Erik. Let me in. Let me see what you saw."

Erik looked at him with narrow eyes "You really want to know what happened to me?"

"I do" Charles nodded fervently. Making sure to display complete honesty in his eyes.

Erik deliberated for a second and then pointed to a large blue stone house on the corner of an adjacent street, nearby his old home.

"This was the home of Victorie Austerlitz. She was my first and longest friend. She was my age"

A picture of a young girl, about 10 years old, filled Charles head as Erik talked. She was short and slim. With pale skin and dark brown hair that grew in ringlets to her lower back. She had big chocolate brown eyes, filled with laughter, kindness and joy. She seemed innocent but wise beyond her years.

"She liked to wear flowers on her clothes or in her hair; she would often make herself a halo of flowers to wear for the day. She was brave, and she drew out the best in everyone who knew her, and most of all she protected what she believed in, and stood up for those that needed protecting. I should have known that she would never survive the Nazi regime"

The girl in Charles head, Victorie, grinned. The expression was all joy and love and happiness. It lit up her whole face, the space around her even seemed to glow. The feeling that flowed though the memory of the girl was one of peace, contentment and awe.

Charles thought idly, _She may have some sort of mutation, there is just something more to her than is purely human._

As the image faded he asked "what happened to her?"

Erik's expression darkened and his voice shook with barely restrained rage "She was beaten to death by an SS officer in the local park. She had stood up for a friend against him," From Erik's tone when he said 'friend', Charles gathered that Victorie was standing up for Erik himself. "The officer thought she was being impertinent. When she didn't back down he killed her in front of everyone present. He took her body with him, I never saw her again"

An image flashed past behind Charles eyes so quickly that he knew Erik had been trying to hide it, but the emotion it evoked was to strong to hide it completely.

It was a halo of white roses lying on the ground. Two flowers crushed, perhaps by a foot, surrounded by stray white petals. A few of the roses splashed with what was unmistakably blood. By the emotion coloring the memory, Charles guessed that Erik had probably given her those roses from one of the many rosebushes in his garden.

They two companions stood in front of the house for a few moments as Charles tried with difficultly to control his tears. He couldn't let Erik see them, he would think it was pity for him that made him weep, not grief for the girl he wanted so desperately to meet. To protect from a horrific fate.

When Charles felt that he was steady enough to speak. He gently nudged Erik's mind with his own and slowly tried to sooth his emotional friend.

_Calm your mind, my friend, calm your mind. Her suffering is over. She is at peace._

"I am thankful for that, that she didn't live though the horrors that I did, I'm glad her spirit was never broken and monstrously altered as mine was"

_Your not a monster Erik. You have so much good in you. You've just never thought to use it. I've seen the good in you Erik, and it is magnificent. I have no doubt she saw it too._

Erik looked stubbornly into the distance and Charles took that as a cue to drop it.

"What happened to her flower halo?" Charles cautiously asked. He felt that he just had to know.

"I buried it under her favourite tree in the park. In a wooden box."

Charles nodded. It was apt.

"We should keep going…" stated Charles reluctantly; he really didn't feel like recruiting anyone just now. "The mutant's home is just a few streets away"

"Right" mumbled Erik.

With a last glance at the house, Erik followed his friend (that so reminded him) of a little girl who wore flowers in her hair that had had also had faith in him.

_And look what happened to her…_He thought miserably._ I won't let him down like that. He will never be harmed on my account. I'm so sorry Victorie…_

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><p><strong>The next chapter will be up soon. As soon as I can edit it to my liking.<br>**

**So what did you think? Like it? Love it? Have constructive criticism? THEN REVIEW IT! please!**

**Maybe even add it to your Story Alerts...I'm just putting it out there. No pressure...just sayin...**_  
><em>


	2. The Monster

**Author's note: I'm SO sorry that it's taken me so long to update this story. School has been absolute madness and I see now that I wasn't prepared to publish a high-maintenance story so soon (and as my first ever). But I have a few more chapters at the ready now. So updating from now on should be pretty regular. (I'm aiming for one chapter per week. As long as I'm patient enough that is…). But as a reward for your lovely reviews and patience, I'll put up the next chapter in he next day or so. As soon as I am done editing it. I hope you will forgive me for taking so long. Enjoy.**

**P.S. I don't speak a word of German. I used Google Translate, and I know it's incorrect a lot of the time, but I didn't know what else to do. So I apologize for any mistakes you might find. **

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><p><strong>Chapter2<strong>

**The Monster**

**In which Erik meets an old acquaintance, and Charles looses control.**

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><p>"So, what house is it Charles?" Enquired Erik as they stood at the beginning of a seemingly deserted street.<p>

Furstenwall was a long straight residential street. Charles judged from the size and condition of the majority of houses, that this was a richer neighbourhood than the one they had just walked through.

"And what makes you think that our telekinetic mutant will even be at home? It's the middle of a working day"

"The house number is 144," Replied Charles absent-mindedly as he scanned the row of houses. "And I know he is home. Because I can already feel his consciousness."

Erik raised an eyebrow. "After you then, Charles."

Charles nodded and led his friend halfway down the street. And through a cast iron gate to a massive three story white house, made seemingly of white marble. Up several marble steps, past two marble pillars and up to the massive wooden double door. Charles inwardly cringed at the house's garishness, overall ugliness and the obvious effort at grandeur. An assessment that was not helped by the two large, golden eagles that adorned the head height marble pillars on either side of the door. Erik raised a disdainful eyebrow at the sight. He hated eagles.

Erik rolled his eyes as Charles straightened his suit jacket, took a steadying breath and ran a hand though his already perfectly arranged brown hair before knocking loudly on the door.

Charles stepped back as they waited for someone to open the door. Just as Charles began to question his certainty that there was someone home. The intercom to the right of the door buzzed and from it issued a deep voice that in clipped demanding German almost shouted "Wer ist es? Was willst du?(Who is it? What do you want?)"

Charles looked at Erik helplessly. His German was terrible. Even though he could perfectly understand any language as long as he was reading the mind of the speaker or a person within hearing distance that also spoke the particular language, he was hopeless at speaking it himself. And he was loath to intrude into the speakers mind unless he had no other option. And with Erik present, being the German born man that he was, that was thankfully un-necessary.

Erik sighed at Charles thoughtlessness as he stepped around his friend and pushed the "talk" button on the intercom. The plan had been that Charles would be doing most of the talking this time. How Charles had over looked the issue of a language barrier, Erik didn't know, he had assumed that Charles had a basic grasp of German and so he hadn't questioned it. _How ironic, thought Erik, that such an eloquent and brilliant man could be stumped by something as simple as a different language. _Erik smirked when he saw Charles frown at him in his peripheral vision.

_It's rude to eavesdrop my friend. He added._

_It's also rude to talk about people behind there backs, particularly a friend._

Erik smirk widened into a small smile as he spoke into the intercom with his usual seriousness. "Guten Tag. Mein Name ist Erik Lehnsherr und mein Kollege Charles Xavier und ich möchte mit Ihnen über bestimmte sprechen ... Fähigkeiten, die wir alle besitzen. Wenn Sie so gnädig sein, um uns noch in (Good afternoon. My name is Erik Lehnsherr and my associate Charles Xavier and I would like to speak to you about certain…abilities that we all possess. If you be so gracious as to yet us in.)" Erik released the button and looked at Charles with a questioning expression.

"Yes, he's asking a servant to open the door now" Charles said, something was off. It had seemed too easy. And the feeling of recognition he felt, coming from the mutant at the name "Lehnsherr" made him wary. Why would someone they've never met, have interest in the Erik's name? Whatever the reason it probably wasn't good.

Erik was similarly uncomfortable. It shouldn't have been that easy to convince the mutant to talk to them. Every other mutant they had met had shown at least mild opposition to listening to them, and particularly at accepting what they had said and what they had to offer. It was unusual.

Just then the door opened to reveal a stony faced man in a suit. "Bitte kommen Sie in (Please come in.)"

"Danke." Erik nodded as he stepped through the door, Charles followed.

_Erik? Would you mind translating for me please? Just project the translation, you don't have to say anything.  
><em>  
>Erik rolled his eyes again<em>. If it was anyone but you Charles…<em>

Charles grinned_. Thank you_

"Hier entlang bitte (Right this way please)." Said the man and led the pair through a cavernous receiving room with a marble floor and ornately painted walls, through another door at the opposite end of the room, which led to a lush office. All dark, rich wood furnishings and walls, thick carpeting and bookshelves lining the walls.

Sitting behind a desk towards the back of the office was a middle aged man with dark, greying hair, with bright, calculating brown eyes.

The man looked up as they entered. "Danke, Hans. Schließen Sie die Tür hinter dir bitte (Thank you, Hans. Close the door behind you please)". Charles raised an eyebrow at the ease and extraordinary speed with which Erik translated the German for him. It was a testament to Erik's exceptionally bright mind that he could deliver the translation almost as soon as it reached his ears.

The man, Hans, nodded and left.

The mutant stood up and walked around the desk to shake there hands. "Hallo, mein Name ist Dominik Waltz und Sie sind ...?(Hello, my name is Dominik Waltz and you are…?)" He shook Charles hand.

"Charles Xavier, wie geht es Dir? (Charles Xavier, how do you do?)" Said Charles, much to Erik's shock. It was a large credit to his self control that the only hint at his surprise was a slight frown.

"Danke, es geht mir sehr gut (I am very well, thank you)" Grinned Dominik as he turned to Erik.

Shaking the other German's hand he said "Dann müssen Sie Erik Lehnsherr werden (Then you must be Erik Lehnsherr)"

"Erfreut, Sie zu treffen Herr. Waltz (Pleased to meet you Mr. Waltz.)" nodded Erik.

"Bitte setzen Sie sich. Machen Sie es sich bequem (Please sit down. Make your selves comfortable)" he smiled as he gestured to the chairs in front of his desk.

_I thought you said you didn't speak any German? Erik shot at Charles in annoyance_

I never said that. In fact, I never said anything about me not being able to speak another language. It was you who assumed that I couldn't speak anything but English.

Then why am I taking the effort to translate for you?

Because despite my flawless pronunciation,

Charles joked, _I only know the basics._

Charles felt Erik's mental sigh. _Fine then…_

_Again, thank you my friend_.

Their mental conversation was ended as Waltz sat down and asked "Also, was war es, dass Sie sagten, Sie waren hier, um zu diskutieren? (So, what was it that you said you were here to discuss?)"

"Ah, ja. Mein Kollege und ich,(Ah, yes. My associate and I,)" Erik gestured to Charles and himself. "Haben einen Vorschlag an Sie richten. (have a proposition to put to you.)" Charles had heard this speech before. Erik would go on to explain their offer, that they knew what Waltz was and that they were the same, then the potential recruit would usually interrupt at that point and ask for a demonstration of their powers. Charles stopped paying close attention to what his friend was saying as the mind reader looked around the room, looking for anything of importance or something that might tell him what sort of man Waltz was.

Charles could tell the house was relatively new; it wasn't old enough to be passed down from a relative. So that meant that Waltz had probably had the house built, thus the house, and the garish, tasteless style of it was of his own design. The style of the house told Charles that Waltz wanted desperately to be acknowledged for his wealth, which to him, probably meant prominence. These two observations seemed to say that that Waltz's family wasn't old money, Waltz has had made all his money himself. _So what has he done to earn his wealth?_Charles wondered

Waltz seemed to be listening intently, elbows on his desk, fingers steepled against his chin, focusing intently on Erik.

Charles stood too take a better look at the room, bookshelves lined the walls. On closer inspection Charles found a copy of Mien Kampf, by Adolf Hitler. Which in and of its self was not unsettling. Charles himself had read it, if only to understand what everyone said about it. But this copy was very well worn, suggesting that it was read often. On a whim, he picked it up; he opened the cover to the title page. There it was. It was signed by the author. This was what unsettled Charles, if Erik saw this…he would act before he thought. Charles quickly replaced the book onto the shelf. He didn't believe that Waltz could ever have been a Nazi. Such a polite, gracious man couldn't be a Nazi.

Charles thoughts were interrupted.

_I…I think I've met this man before Charles. _Thought Erik._ I just can't remember where._

The telepath was worried now. He decided that before he did anything, he needed to be sure.

Charles continued his search of the room. Because that's what it was now, a search. A search for proof. Proof that he was, or proof that he wasn't. If he was what Charles had the sneaking suspicion that he might be, he didn't have very long to live. Erik would find out, sooner more likely than later. And he had to get Erik out of here before he realized. Charles walked over to a waist high, glass cabinet. He looked down on numerous medals. But all he seemed capable of seeing at that time was the unmistakable lightning bolt shaped SS. The infamous insignia of the Schutzstaffel

_So he made his money by taking it from minorities…_

Charles looked up in alarm at Waltz smiling face as the man in question interrupted Erik's speech around the time that most of the others interrupted. But what he said was far from expected.

"Lehnsherr ... ist, dass ein jüdischer Name? (Lehnsherr…is that a Jewish name?)"

"…Ja (Yes)" Erik answered slowly, with a cold tone. When neither of them said anything else, Erik continued with his spiel and thought at Charles with disdain. _My friend, I don't like this man, even though I can't remember him, something tells me that he was no friend to me. His smiling face is hiding something. He is a snake._

Charles walked back, over to the two men, and sat down. Erik was smiling, but the smile reminded Charles of a predator sizing up his prey and all the metal objects in the room seemed to be humming. Unnervingly, Waltz had the same expression. Although he seemed as though he was about to pounce.

_It's a pleasure to see you again Erik Lehnsherr. Do you miss your Victorie?_

It was a private thought; Waltz didn't know he was overheard. Charles paled. _Oh no, not her…  
><em>  
><em>You monster…<em>thought Charles. Erik head snapped to look at his friend. In his anger, Charles had projected the accusation. Waltz looked around wildly before settling his eyes on Charles. He smirked. _Well, if that's all you can do…_

Being such a mild person, Charles didn't usually get angry. For a telepath, this was a good thing. Anger in a telepath, particularly one as powerful as Charles, could be devastating. To someone with telepathic abilities, self control was the most important and useful tool one could have. But when someone like Charles lost control, it's dangerous.

Charles delved into Waltz' mind, searching for the memory of what this monster did to a helpless little girl. He skimmed over the incident in the park. He didn't need to know the details. Still he couldn't help but feel Waltz' rage, excitement and most sickening of all, joy, in the horrific act he was performing. Charles' anger grew as he watched the grinning man in front of him beat a young girl to death. Through the monster's eyes he saw young Erik Lehnsherr's face fill with grief and loss, then rage.

Charles stared at the Nazi who found that he was unable to move.

_You will pay for what you did to those to children. And all those others that you wronged._Projected Charles coldly. Erik looked at his friend in confusion, momentarily distracted from his growing realization of who this mutant was, and what he did. In Charles anger, he was unable to focus on who he was projecting to, and what he was projecting. Everyone in the house was able to hear Charles and feel his anger and distress.

"Charles what's wrong?" Erik asked, gripping his shoulder. "Charles?" He said, with more urgency.

The mind reader watched as he saw the younger Waltz take Victories' body, through her into the back seat of his car, and drive to his home. He dug a shallow grave and dumped her in it, covering her body with dirt.

The house was in the same place as this one; the old house had been knocked down and rebuilt. But Charles knew she was still right where Waltz left her, he didn't let anyone near the basement.

_You are a monster of the most discussing sort, __Dominik__ Waltz. And I will make you pay. For Erik. For Victorie.  
><em>  
>Erik's eyes widened at his friends words and the return of his memory. The metal in the office began to shake. Erik's expression turned cold and indifferent, in a mask of calm that Charles knew hid a violent and consuming rage.<p>

"Do it Charles" he said

Charles did not hesitate. The telepath wiped Waltz mind of all memory, personality and intellect. Charles rid the man of everything that made him human, even though human was a very loose term when applied to him.

Waltz' face went slack; His eyes, vacant.

Charles even took away the man's feelings. Except for a few select emotions. Which he amplified to fill the space left over. These emotions were animalistic terror, grief for the loss of everything he ever had even though he didn't know that there was anything to be had in the first place, and pain. Endless pain that would be the sole focus of his pitiful mind for the rest of his life.

Waltz began to scream. A bloodcurdling, endless scream of the worst agony imaginable as he stared at nothing.

This screaming fiend was now all that was left of him. He would not sleep; he would not eat or drink. He would do nothing but feel his pain and scream until he died.

Charles rose from his seat, and with Erik in tow, walked out of the room, and out of the house, wiping the house's occupants minds of their visit as he went.

Out on the street, as they walked towards a hotel, Charles began to weep. He cried a little for what he had done, but mostly for Victorie. And most of all, what that horrible man had taken from Erik.

The older man soon calmed. He found that whenever something like this was over, it didn't take long to regain his control. He put an arm around his friends shoulder when he saw the telepath crying.

"You should have let me kill him, my friend." he said gently. "I'm so sorry Charles, I should have realized sooner what he was. It was all there, the eagles, the way he recognized me, the books, and the badges. " He gave a cold laugh. "Even the style of the house screamed Nazi."

Charles wiped his eyes and said "No. I couldn't let you do that, killing would make us no better than them."

Erik wisely kept to himself the fact that Charles had basically sentenced Waltz to death, a long and slow death at that. He didn't think Charles was in control at the time, so it would do no good for him to point that out to his friend.

Instead he said "Let's go find a hotel, and alcohol."

Charles' resulting chuckle was cut short "We can't, we have to go back."

Erik was confused "Why would we do that?"

"Because I know where Victorie is. You want to give her a proper burial don't you?"

The older mans shock was evident "Of course."

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><p><strong>So what did you think? Please review! It means a lot if you do! Stay tuned for the next chapter.<strong>

**Love, Ashy**


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